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shinjisdone · 8 months ago

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𝒯𝒾𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

capitolo nove

capitolo dieci: is here

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag list:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1, @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites , @wonderlace19

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationships

[TW for this one specifically include: puppets, puppet limbs, moving and talking doll, uneasy behavior, dubious intentions, burnout, exhaustion, slight depression, grief, crying, uncomfortable tension, creepy behaviour, slight disassociation from Geppetto's part, coercion (to force you to have something you do not want + face something emotionally and physically), mentions of liquids (oil and adhesives), reader is having something akin to a panic attack (panting, slipping, and swallowing down vomit)]

The rattling echoed in the hallway with one cable slipping out of the cage and falling on the floor. Its head dragged along with an hesitant motion as more was taken. Finally, the metal plate was given a gentle push and it closed before the chest was carefully forced back into the cabinet.

"I'm...sorry," You tried to smile but it hardly beared any kind of regret, "I'll return it once I'm done, I promise. I can fix you up in no time, after all. I've long achieved the title of expert in this regard. I think." Your smile was met with artificial ones as the puppet butlers remained motionless, hunched close together in the tight furniture. The previous clothes had to be removed for them to fit in. You gently closed the door without looking back.

Quickly going upstairs, you put the box on your worktable and let the tangled wires hang from the edges. Sorting everytging out will be tedious but what got your attention right now, was the small, golden cube. The core looked just as intact as it did months ago, reminding you of its longevity the Workshop Union promised when first introducing it and when Uncle first showed you the object. The mere thought of puppets being able to talk made your heart jump out of your chest and you could only believe it when hearing it for yourself. Many were put off by the prototype's rough voice but you were only mesmerized.

Aurorie sat next to the project, eagerly awaiting your hand as you took her small one and rose her up to her feet. With a slight hitch, the material bent briefly before the limps stayed fastened and she stood firm on her legs. You observed for a while, smiling with a big sigh as she stayed still and began connecting the cables. Even as you opened up her back and rummagered near her neck, the doll did not falter, which only made you smile more. Putting the box near and adjusting the microphone, you let Aurorie avidly waiting.

She stood tall as she stared into your eyes as you took a deep breath.

"Would you like to dance?"

Half a minute passes as you held your breath not have it fawn over the microphone. Staring at the box, the golden frames glowed lightly in the dim room. However Uncle managed to create such seemingly beyond this realm was still a mystery to you.

"...Would you like to dance?"

Your voice was mimicked much higher, resembling that of a bell, just like you wanted it. Though your hesitation was also carried over and so you gave it another shot.

"I'm awfully sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's just that we've met once before. Once upon a dream."

Inhaling deeply, you lifted her arm and held onto her small palm. Gingerly you slowly pulled her towards the right. Her body would first lean to it, before, surely, one foot after another followed suit. Her steps were small but graceful, giving the illusion of her walking all on her own - or rather dancing as she followed your lead.

"...I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..."

Even as she danced to the rythm you gave her, the voice echoed back fluently. High-pitched and fitting for a doll her size, high enough to not have it be recognizable as your voice.

"...That glint in your eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Cracking a wide grin you carefully got up from your stool and daringly dragged her across the entire table as she danced towards each direction you pulled her. Hooking another finger around her other palm, you'd lightly hold her up as her legs would cross like a ballerina.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom, all they seem...but if I know you, I'll know what you do..."

You held out a hand near her waist to stop any fall but Aurorie twirled lovingly as you turned her, bringing up one leg just like you programmed. It was meticulously soft but each movement, no matter how slow, made your heart swell. You made this. You made your dearest friend dance and sing just you always did with her, for her and now can do so together.

She is a singing, dancing doll that you made with your own hands.

"You'll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream!"

For the finale, you slightly pressed your finger against the back of her head and she bowed.

The rain did everythig in its might to squash him down.

Alas, it was more like an annoying fly in his ear. Rain was nothing compared to that man and his company, alongside his loyal companions who believe themselves to be divine. Having reached the door, the prattling from the sky above seemed to become louder.

Ergo, was it?

'I know what you're thinking. Trust me when I say time is scarce and you should know better than anyone else. We are creating perfection and cannot afford to hold it back any longer for your little projects.'

It fell from the sky, did it?

'You were the one who came to me and I have done my part and more. Be a dear and fulfill your part of the contract, Guiseppe. Hurry up and get rid of anyone not trustworthy. The puppets will do the rest.'

Did it not need more? Love? A father?

The only one fullfilling him with anything was waiting like a good child. Everyone else seemed so disappointing.

'You don't need anyone else anyway, no?'

His voice echoed in the back of his head as he pushed the door open and it left him dazed; Not knowing if he was still calling out to him as a means to motivate him further, push him further into madness - fear and mockery are great motivaters - or if he is just going senile.

Geppetto cannot afford any more years to waste. He's not the youngest anymore but he needs to be to welcome him back.

Like a mantle the drenched clothes weighed him down and he could not help but let out a groan. He slid off his cloak and let the rest fall onto the floor, his long strides taking him to his office. It was routine by now.

Eyes darted around the hallway he passed but barely took in any information he he sees. The mess in the kitchen and remaining food, the disarray of chairs and the cabinet not entirely closed. The only thing that made him blink and sharpen his vision was the constant knocking at his office door. Your clothes, sloppily worn as well as untidy your untidy hair faced him and he inadvertantly had to stop in his tracks. For a moment he realized that you had turned around as well to face him.

"...(Name)?"

You said nothing and continued to stare at him with that surprised look. You looked as unruly as you did from behind. The only things kept in neat order the bandages around your hand, which seem to have become thinner - how long would you were it and did you even need them anymore - and your loyal doll.

His visage softened at the sight of it, though he delfated right after.

"Oh...you weren't home."

"What do you need, dear? I'm afraid I'm awfully busy."

"I thought so...I, uhm, just wanted to check up on you. We haven't talked in long."

"And I don't know if we can." Geppetto passed by you and opened his office's door. You quickly followed after him. "I'm still as busy as ever. Just tell me what you need." Closing the door, you watched Geppetto sit down with a heavy sigh. He wiped his face, then his eyes as they seemed as tired as yours. Wordlessly, he turned in his chair to you. The expression on his face could only be described as drooping. Awaiting for the night to draw closer so he can finally close his eyes.

Rushing over to the other side of the desk, you placed Aurorie on top of it, facing your uncle. He sat with an empty look, staring down at your doll. With an avoidant gaze you held onto both of her hands.

"...It's nothing much if you are so tired, Uncle." "No," he sighed, "show me while you are already here." Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you gingerly lifted her up by her palms. In an moment, she stood on her feet and Geppetto briefly raised a brow. Clearing your throat, you tapped her head.

"What's the meaning behind this-"

"Hello, Mr Geppetto!"

Geppetto halted and blinked. With a deep inhale, he sat up straighter.

It talked. It was a recording of your voice, he could tell, no matter how high-pitched it sounded. Nevertheless, you never had any puppet talk in script before and even if it wasn't its own consciousness, it left him surprised.

After all, it didn't have any Ergo.

"I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

It stretched a hand out.

"But I am just a doll. I like to sing and dance. Would you like to dance?"

Your finger found its outstretched palm and lead it back to you. She took long but careful steps. You glimpsed back at him, watching him raise a brow. Carefully, he slowly let out.

"...Yes. I'd like to see what you can do."

"Yes!" It answered much more solemnly than the man and began raising one foot. Gingerly, you began to guide her in a circle. Her legs would go up and down as her head never turned away from Geppetto. The voice box reacted a moment later.

"When you wish upon a star..."

It was this song. Quickly you let her dance in a slower pace and with much more vigor.

Geppetto's eyes widened at the familiar melody.

"Makes no difference who you are..."

HIs brown eyes trailed after the movements that replicated those of a waltz, he reckoned. One-sided and of an lone dancer though it tried its best to make up for an lacking partner by using his entire desk as its stage.

"Anything your heart desires..."

The shoes tapped on the wood in rythm. By the time the refrain was reached, he hunched lower, forward, staring with a keen eye as its moves became almost life-like, as if these giant human hands guiding it are just for show itself. The singing voice was as clear as a bell and its head would turn with the body. The two parts have seperate screws. The voice box hidden and placed somehow between the crinoline and the dress. The most eye-catching thing out of all for the man were the light limbs that must been taking apart, added joints - so tiny that he did not possess any so small so what did you built in there - and reconstructed it entirely to its original shape visually for it to move so naturally.

His hand went from his chin to the doll. Worldlessly he opened his palms and neared them to its hands - you halted for a moment, staring at him. Hesitating, you let Aurorie tap towards him and he took the lead.

"...Will come to you."

Geppetto fully let the doll have his attention as he mimicked your moves. Just like before it danced over the desk, twirled and bowed, left to right and back and forth, just as he wanted it to. A fine display of a doll obeying the puppeteer.

Then, he let one hand go. Like a dog on a leash, Aurorie is dragged by one finger to one direction to the next. His hold lingered only for a second, before he snapped his finger away and it was left with no puppetteer to guide it.

It stumbled but with a thud Aurorie landed on one foot, the other bend behind it. The upper body leaned forward.

If a puppet was pushed, you could make it regain its balance.

"If your heart is in your dream..."

His hand swept from the left and took it back on stage as he pushed and pushed and pushed it further back. It backed off with small but secure enough steps before it retained its posture, straight as a candle.

If a puppet was hit by a force, it could recover.

"...No request is too extreme..."

Hand in a claw, he dragged it forward before stopping it a second later with a flat palm. Aurorie did while swinging slightly in its spot. Once the limbs stayed still, the voice box finished the last verse before ceasing as well. Like a mountain, it stood tall on his desk, staring into nothing.

You glimpsed between it and Geppetto.

And you could make the limbs move, give an arm autonomy.

Folding his hands, he had his chin rest on them once again as he eyed Aurorie for a few, silent seconds before parting his lips ever so slightly.

"Sing, doll."

The silence continued on. Ever so quiet ticking could be heard within its body and only a moment later was a high "Yes!" let out. The ticks returned briefly before the voice box echoed from the dress.

"...Little wooden head go play your part, bring a little joy to every heart,"

The old man observed it without interruption. It stood still and away from the two of you, creepily even but the voice singing was smooth and assured. Its face might not be able to move, the rosy lips not parting to let out a melody, the eyes set firm like stone but nothing seemed awry to Geppetto as he heard the jolly song.

"Little do you know and yet it's true,"

Finally, he blinked his tired eyes and slowly rose them to you.

"That I'm mighty proud of you!"

"Uncle?" You spoke in between the mirthful verses with your own worried and shaking voice. You stared wide and pale into his narrowed, strait ones. He kept on staring.

Quickly, however, like a sudden draught, he took a deep breath and wiped his nose. "Sorry, my dear," Geppetto cleared his throat and had his wide eyes focus on you, "You caught me zoning out. Today was mighty exhausting, but..." Once again his gaze fell on the doll. It stayed there for a a good few seconds before he began speaking in a sober voice. "...this is a big change now. Something different."

"Oh..." You hesitate, eyes darting around the room briefly before lookng back at him with an hesitant smile. Your voice was quieter than his. "Do - do you like it?"

A finger flicked the doll's locks, gaze glued on it.

"I do."

Your chuckle was as dry as his answer.

"That's great, great. I...wanted to have something to cheer me up a bit," Looking down you fiddled with the bandages on your hand, "I thought maybe it'd make you smile, too."

"Why did you want to make this out of all things?"

Your eyes locked with his crinkled ones, brown seeming to be an endless spiral that you couldn't quite decipher. Again, you glimpsed about before answering. "...I don't know. I saw that at the festival about a month ago and I loved it - but the day turned horrible and," A soft sigh escaped you, "I just, didn't want that to be. I wanted to have fun that day but I ruined it for myself." Looking back, Geppetto could clearly make out your deep frown through his failing vision, an frown so big he had not seen it in years.

"...It's sweet that you dedicate so much of your time for something as droll as a dancing, singing doll."

At that you could not fight the cracking grin. Folding your hands behind your back, you shyly looked away.

"Well...of course. I love her."

Brown eyes, strait and narrowed, opened up like an old door, a secret so well hidden and unknown to the rest of humanity, to the rest of these arrogant bastards, as his eyes widened like that of an child - told of an tale that only he could understand.

The man's head rose as he took in on all that you were, your features so familiar and clear as the first time he held your crying form in his arms, watched as he realized that you, too, could partake in this secret and understand it as well.

"You love her?"

You smiled bashfully once more with an firm nod. "Of course."

"...And you made all this by just observing the perfomance of these other puppets?"

"Ah, yes, well...I suppose. I did some more research though, I didn't just etch that all in my mind."

A short sigh escaped Geppetto as he leaned back in his chair. He hesitated for a bit, a mere moment as he pondered, before slowly getting up. Standing in front of you, the man was unsure on how to approach yet one thing was clear. Folding his hands behind his back as well, he took a deep breath.

"Puppets need love to be created. And love is formed by an genuine wish, my dear."

A brow was raised at his sudden claim. Wit perked ears you listened as he stood there, seemingly staring through you.

"Something as beautiful and heartfelt like puppets can only be created by love. Anything else or below that just makes them tools."

Carefully, he rested his hand on your shoulder and slowly but surely gained the confidence to tighten his grasp. "But we puppet makers do not fall so low. We don't bury ourselves in work just to make some helpful tools, we create things because we desire to! We do the things we do because we love them." Staring back you noted the glint in his dark eyes that do not reach his smile. Another moment of silence filled the room, one where you could not find any words to reply to his sudden but mellow vigor but your uncle was quick to draw back and reach for his desk. "Can I show you something? No, I want to." He opened a drawer before cautiously taking out a piece of paper. Dusting it off, his lips tucked wider. Swiftly, he offered it to you.

With hesitant hands you took it.

A crayon painting of Aurorie.

Your eyes darted around the long, curly locks of hair that waved about in an ridiculous manner. The bright baby blue that was all over the place, as well as the giant tiara sitting on top of her head. Kind eyes and a red smile.

Bandaged fingers carressed the bottom of the paper.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Your heart dropped.

"This, too, was created out of love."

The ticking of the grandfather clock seemed as light as a bird's dying chrip. The room drowned out. The carpet under your feet nothing but a blotch of red and the smell of the mahogany table so sickening you held your breath. All you could focus on was the crude drawing of your beloved doll and how starkly similiar it looked to the real deal despite the childish doodling and exaggeratedness. The hair, dress, tiara, and smile were all meant for you. The signature had wild scribbles around the word 'annoying' as if he really wanted to hide it even as he failed to.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Did he really dislike you that much?

Did he really love you that much?

"...When did...he make this?" Discreetly you gasped for air, a mere moment to even find your voice even as your heart spoke before your brain could stop it. "...After your fight when you left back home in the holidays. I brought the doll to you the next time we visited your father."

Gepetto spoke so calmly but none of his words were any news to you. Of course, you thought, you recalled the joy clearly when you held her in your arms for the first time. You knew how old the two of you were but not once did he cross your mind when you got her - and played with her every day after that. The thought of him doing something like that for you, however, made your heart stop. Taking a deep breath you swallowed the lump in your throat. No miracle in the world could conjure a smile on your face - all you could offer was a crooked grin to your uncle.

"It's beautiful." Facial muscles ached and the crack in your voice made you look nothing but a sham but you meant it, you did, and you hoped desperately with an aching chest that Geppetto would see it too. Let the only other man who knew him understand you as well. He, in turn, arched a brow and glimpsed between your face and the drawing you held.

"Do you love it?"

"I do." Another crack followed by a sniffle and the man was quick to come closer and grab your shoulder. "I know. I know you do now. Don't cry, dear. Don't cry. It wouldn't suit you." Wiping your nose, you blinked like a maniac to surpress the tears. The lump in your throat got bigger as your chest was trying to suck you in whole again, a deep sinkhole caving in as if nothing could sate its selfish hunger. It felt more upsetting to have Uncle see through you so easily like glass. All your emotions out on display like a tray of food and out of all people, he was the one feasting on them. Looking over the variety that he could freely choose from.

Instead, he took a step back and watched you stiffle your sobs with a drab expression. "It's alright, dear. You can keep it if you like. It was meant as a reference sheet for me but I believe it was ulltimately made for you."

With a deep breath, you shakily let it out. Clearing your throat you looked at him, misty-eyed. Everything felt like it was crushing you down, including him. "Are you sure?" You sounded like a wounded bird and hated it. He offered a friendlier smile and nodded. "Of course."

Nodding yourself, you drew the paper closer to you. However should a precious treasure like this be kept, you wondered. Crushed as you were, you were unsure if you could fold it properly to keep it, or have it preserved somewhere safe - in an treasure chest itself and nothing less appropiate.

You were not sure if you even wanted to keep it.

Still, words needed to be forced out, "Thank you, Uncle Geppetto." You sniffled again and dared not to look at him - unaware of how he stared down at you for moments that felt like an eternity. The taste of your snot was awful and salty, the paper between your fingers so thin but sharp, either destined to fall to the ground or cut you and spill more blood. The ticking of the clock something you did not hesitate to despise. Everything seemed so wrong and disgusting. With enough bravery and integrity, you peeked from beneath your tears to his hollow gaze. You've never seen his eyes swirl in such darkness.

You prepared yourself to speak but Geppetto was faster as he hastily drew his breath. "I knew that you would understand. Only puppet makers can understand other puppet makers. Thank you for that, my dearest niece." He paused as he mulled over his next words, "...You don't have anything else to do, do you? Of course not, you've got to rest your hand."

Before you could interrupt, he gestured towards his office door with the one hand and fished out a key from his breast pocket with the other.

"There's something else I'd like to show you. Perhaps you could help me."

How one earth could footsteps sound so dismal?

A place lit by lamps so dark?

The hallway you raced over and over and over again lose all meaning and familiarity, like falling out of love and being presented with a stranger?

Your shoes thumped against the carpet one step after the next. You focused on keeping the rythm in tact, your good hand cradling Aurorie while your bandaged one grasped the crayon drawing. Uncle's gray coat always in front of you with great distance. This walk felt like an eternity as well as you wanted nothing more but for it to be over. To close your eyes and be back in your room as if nothing had happened.

"...That song you taught the doll..." Barely you could lift your head up to Geppetto musing. As long as you could hear him, you'd be fine continuing to stare at the floor. "...You two often sang it." Your eyes flickered up to his head slightly turned to your direction but not fully seeing you. Meekly you nodded. "Mhm. It was from that book..."

"A book?"

"...Yes. The adventures of that boy that lied...it had pages with just the song written all over it, it had a fairy that made wishes come true all in blue and, yeah," You nodded along even though he did not see it, "...It was sweet...and good."

The click of the key made you halt like a train. It took a good moment for the door to creak open with your uncle's figure blocking your view. It hit the wall with a thump, startling you and leaving you wondering if the door always was made out of such heavy material in the past. Lighting a lamp, the man gestured towards the darkness below before promptly going down. With a deep breath you pressed your doll closer to you, crinkling the drawing in your hand and gingerly followed.

The creaking your steps would leave was heavier than that of the door, old wood soon replaced by metal that thumped harrowlingly. The air felt stiffer and colder and the room seemed to broaden the deeper you marched down, though that was only a guess. A gut feeling as your uncle was still the only light you could count on.

"Carlo really loved you, you know?"

Geppetto's words left a shiver running down your spine.

"He'd always ask when you'd come back. When the next holidays might be and if you and your family would visit Krat so he could show you more and more. More of what I made."

A long and echoing chuckle escaped him. The thumping continued.

"'How many more sleeps until (Name) comes back?'"

Goosebumps over your arms as the cold sunk deep into your bones.

"He just had a hard time showing it. Carlo is an emotional boy and you know how they get when they grow."

The thumping stopped. You almost bumped into him if he had not swiftly went around the corner and turned on the light. Squinting your eyes at the blinding sight, you were met red and white. A fine, slim, green carpet starting from the staircase and rolled towards the end of the room. Working tables at each side of the walls shaped to a circle with all kinds of tools, parts, material, liquids, adhesives and puppet limbs on them. Lamps symmetrically facing each other on the walls with a few loveseats and wardrobes and small furniture scattered in the basement. Assembly instructions were pinned on a few tables. It smelled of oil and you jumped back when you stepped on documents soaked in some other liquid.

Shrinking, you pressed your belongings further into you. "Uncle...what do you want to show me here? What could I possibly help with?" You tried to laugh but it was squashed by the sound puppet limbs slipping off a table. The porcelain white material was oozing out adhesives.

Hastily you hurried after your uncle. Your shaking feet stumbled as they tried to catch up with his long, calm gait. A red grand drape from the left ot the right covered the end of the room with a bright light peeking from the ground. You eyed it skeptically as your uncle abruptly reached for a switch on the left and the drapes slowly opened. The lamp hanging from the ceiling was the brightest and shown down on the red loveseat like in a play, letting the world know of the star of its show - an otherworldliness that would change a mortal's life for the rest of time.

The lump in your throat turned into bile that rose to your mouth as your uncle stood to the side, the show's light casting a shadow that reached the basement's dark corners. You kept on swallowing it down, down, down, blinking away the tears as your hands reached for something, anything - coming into a contact to the edge of an table to the far right and grasping it with all your might. Wide, burning eyes darted between the dark silhouette and the star sitting oh so peacefully on the loveseat. Shining vibrantly under the light as if it were an angelic being, even with the simple and plain blouse and trousers it adorned. The room spinned and the quietness was the noose cutting your neck from your head, your mind.

"What is that?" You licked your lips as you gasped for air. The older man still took his time to speak. "This," He began nice and slow, almost in an trance when blinded by the star itself, "This is the most special thing I have created yet. Something that will change our world." He reached for the headrest, his fingers grazing the locks, and pushed it further down to have its peaceful face drink in the light, causing you to shoot up your hand to your mouth to swallow down your gall.

"He's not complete yet. There are so many things to consider, so many things to do to make him perfect. He needs to be." Finally, he turned to you, his face obscured by shadows. Your uncle offered you his hand. "Come, take a closer look at this miracle."

The weight you shifted onto the table made you slip curtly before you could quickly get on wobbly feet. With shaking arms you squeezed your doll and drawing to you and walked with a hunched back, agape mouth and slow steps that will be the death of you. Seeing this thing any more closer would be your death. The sight of these featherly light lids closed as if resting in a tranquil slumber made your eyes burn and heave for air that did not reek of oil and dust. The bushy, black eyebrows free from all worries and not arched down when lookng at you. Seeing the short, and unkempt locks of hair kept exactly as he did as a youngster, dark and thick as the midnight sky, that would often fall over his crinkled eyes, and ever so gently weave with every pant you took had you cover your mouth and eyes for moment. You needed a moment - please, please, - to not go mad and fall down on this thing's feet. Gingerly opening one eye, as if one look at it would curse you, your watery gaze travelled up and down its face. There was a clear bone structure to be seen around the jaw and cheek bones. You feared it might be felt too for how real it seemed, how the shadows were cast on the rest of its neck, that did not pulse, and the white, flawless blouse lovingly placed on its figure. The lips were full and pink with something that could not be paint - you swore it on your life - and neither could the perfect, glass skin be. A familiar teint that almost made you urge to reach out and touch it.

The nose was a perfect shape, littered with heavy and dark freckles that began from the chin and travelled up to the even forehead. They congegrated the most across the cheeks, like stars in the sky that created a constellation. A few small, lone stars were near and on its lips.

Carlo didn't have any freckles.

"Uncle, what is that?" Your voice cracked as you stifled a sob. The man in turn, only strode to the thing's side. One hand on the head rest and the other on the arm rest. He was careful not to touch it. "A miracle, I've told you. He is special and he needs to be completed." His voice was laced in something you wished to forget. The times where he chastised you, when he stared at you with such disappointment, when he completely looked down on your injured hand that his puppet caused. "He barely knows the outside world. The legion arm keeps falling out of his socket and the lad doesn't know how to talk and walk." Instinctively, you snapped your head to the metal arm to the right, fastened by belts on the upper arm to keep it from falling. It was thicker than the other limbs, littered with golden joints and much more advanced than any other puppet part you have ever seen.

With fear in your wide eyes, you looked back to Geppetto.

He looked back with an small and expectant gaze. In his hand, an opened box with a golden clump in it, the thick cables hanging from the edges. A clock was installed, ticking away.

"Something as special as him needs love to blossom into what he needs to become. He needs you, (Name)."

𝐸𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟷; 𝑆𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟

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